Authors: Kathryn Lance
Zach set down his cup of tea, untouched. He bowed his head. “Of course I will do anything you ask. My service is yours. My life is yours. I swear I will never disappoint you again.”
For a moment Will looked angry again. “For the deena’s sake don’t be so formal,” he said. Then, abruptly, he sat in the chair Zach had recently vacated and put his head in his hands. “This is not easy for me,” he muttered.
Zach did not know how to answer. He was befuddled by lack of sleep, and at the same time he saw clearly what must have happened. “Evvy has been talking to you,” he said.
“Yes,” said Will distractedly. “She is wiser than both of us.” He seemed suddenly to shake off his mood, then he looked directly at Zach. “She and I are going to be married,” he said. “She says she loves me and I believe her.” He rose, then approached Zach, looking almost himself. “Zach, I need you here.”
Zach looked at his brother, not knowing what he felt. He pushed himself to his feet, and the brothers embraced, as they had four days ago.
“Meet me in the stables in half an hour,” said Will. He picked up the scarcely touched fowl and broke off a leg and thigh, eating hungrily as he continued to talk. “You must come with me today. Learn the routine again. Can you do that?”
Slowly Zach nodded. Will frowned briefly. “But perhaps you’re not strong enough yet?”
“I’m quite well,” said Zach. “I’ll see you in the stables.”
Will left by the same door he had entered. Again Zach looked at the pile of provisions he had planned to take into exile, the bags of clothing and bedding, the weapons, the store of food. Always in his life, those he was closest to – Will, the old woman, Leya, even Evvy, but especially Will, whose moods were like waves passing over water – all could put aside or change their feelings as easily as donning a new cloak. For Zach this had never been true. His head ached, and his fatigue was as great as any he had ever experienced. It clouded his mind, preventing him from knowing how he felt. He was to stay. And Will and Evvy would be married.
Z
ACH WAS AWAKENED EARLY BY
an unearthly, high-pitched howling. For a panicked moment he thought he was still in his Trader prison cell, then he recognized the familiar walls of his own room. He leapt out of bed and quickly pulled on his trousers. The hall was dark, but he could hear running footsteps and then curses coming from the direction of the Principal’s quarters. His heart thudding, he ran toward the sounds and collided with Lindy, the young serving boy, knocking the breath from both of them. At that moment the Principal emerged from his rooms, and Zach saw that the bizarre noise was coming from a blurred shape at the end of the hall, behind the Principal.
“Will!” cried Zach. “Are you—”
“No, sir!” shouted Lindy at the same moment. “Don’t go near it!” He darted down the hall and past the Principal, who had turned toward the sound.
The next instant there was a sharp, surprised cry of pain from the boy, followed by the Principal’s voice, commanding and calm: “Stay there, Zach! Lindy, back away slowly.”
A half dozen guards had now appeared, one with a torch, and for the first time Zach could see clearly the cause of the commotion: at the far end of the hall was crouched Napoleon, the Principal’s pet fox-cat, its dark-striped fur standing straight out from the top of the large, wedge-shaped ears to the tip of its bushy tail. The howling continued unabated, and now Zach saw that the animal had apparently attacked Lindy. “Lindy, have Wolff attend to that,” the Principal said, still sounding calm. He pushed the boy in Zach’s direction. Even in the dim light Zach could see the three deep scratches that looked like knife cuts in the boy’s forearm. Blood welled from the wounds, and Lindy’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Sir,” he said. “Please let me—”
“Go!” snapped the Principal. He turned to his guards, who were standing uncertainly, their eyes fixed nervously on the animal.
“It’s nothing, men,” he said. “The fox-cat has apparently had a nightmare. Back to your stations.”
Perry, the Principal’s personal guard, started to object, but the Principal cut him off. “Now!” he said. “I’ll handle this. Your presence is upsetting him more.”
The guards left with Lindy. The fox-cat continued to howl and hiss. Slowly, murmuring soothingly, the Principal began to walk toward the end of the hall. “Will—” said Zach.
“Be quiet! I know what I’m doing!” Again his voice dropped to a soft murmur. “There, there, Napoleon,” he said. “It’s all right, little one, it’s all right.”
While Zach watched anxiously. Will slowly knelt and held out his hands to the small animal, which continued to howl and spit in seeming terror.
Zach held his breath as Will withdrew his hand, still speaking soothingly. The creature was more than half grown, and though it had been born in captivity and had been Will’s pet most of its life, Zach wondered if it were reverting to the wild state. Or worse, perhaps the animal had rabies, which had not been destroyed by the Change as had some other diseases. “Leave it alone, Will,” he said.
“Shh,” said the Principal. He reached out again and this time touched the fox-cat, then began to stroke it. At last Napoleon quit making the eerie sounds, and the Principal lifted his pet onto his shoulder. Napoleon nuzzled his master’s hair, then relaxed, draping himself across the Principal’s shoulder like a cloak. “He’s all right now,” said the Principal.
“Are you sure? Will, the animal attacked your serving boy.”
“Only because Lindy moved too quickly. Fox-cats can sense moods, Zach. I believe all the excitement has him upset.”
“He could be sick. At least have Wolff look at him.”
“If you insist,” said the Principal in a tone that told Zach that he would do no such thing. “But for today I’ll keep him shut up in my room.” He smiled and yawned. “Besides, both of us have more than enough to attend to today. Are you ready, brother?”
For a moment Zach couldn’t think what the Principal was talking about.
“For the wedding,” said the Principal, laughing. When Zach still did not answer, he peered closely at him. “Zach? Is something wrong?”
Zach forced himself to relax. “No, brother,” he said. “I was just thinking. I suppose I never thought I would see this day.”
The Principal smiled sheepishly, suddenly looking like an adolescent boy facing his first challenge. “To tell you the truth, neither did I. And I owe it to you.”
Again Zach didn’t know what to say. He could not shake a nagging feeling that something was wrong. Perhaps he had caught the fox-cat’s nervousness.
“Zach?”
“Ah, Will, it’s a happy day,” he said. “And I’m happy for you. For both of you.” He forced himself to smile, then clasped Will’s hand. The Principal returned his grip, then, still holding the fox-cat, turned and went into his rooms.
Zach took a deep breath, then stepped out into the warm afternoon sun. His hair and beard had been freshly trimmed, and he was wearing a new cloak and tunic with the Principal’s emblem embroidered on the chest. As always when dressed formally he felt faintly ridiculous; he had to fight an urge to lower his head as he approached the wrought-iron gate that led to State House, where Evvy and the women from the Garden were staying.
This was the second and most important of his errands today. Several hours earlier, dressed less conspicuously, he had guided his mount along the broad avenue, bordered on one side by the teeming mall, on the other by the massive pre-Change marble buildings. He had been struck by the almost palpable mood of excitement and optimism: for days now craftsmen, farmers, and all manner of tradespeople had been flocking to the Capital for the biggest and most lucrative fair held since the District had been consolidated under the Principal’s leadership.
Even the frequent public trials of Trader preachers had not seemed to detract from the sense that the District was moving and building toward a new future, a renaissance of civilization and the rebirth of humankind. Everywhere he looked was the evidence of the Principal’s vision and influence: from postal notices and schedules for literacy classes to the growing numbers of female children.
When Zach saw all this, especially the girl-children, who were almost all under two years of age, he smiled to himself and could even join for a moment in the feeling of celebration. But he saw other signs too: small groups of sullen, defiantly unwashed citizens, some wearing openly the forbidden double spiral; others with faces reflecting the despair created by a life of hopeless poverty, crouching listlessly in doorways or walking aimlessly in the crowd, swept along but untouched by the celebration. Most of all Zach felt a sense of kinship with these, the hopeless, the frightened, those who seemed to see clearly the coming end of the world. His mood had grown stronger throughout the day; he could no more shake it than he understood it.
Zach was well liked in the Capital, and as he had moved through the unusually crowded streets, he responded almost automatically to the many greetings: “Welcome home, General Zach!” “Congratulations!” “Best of luck to the Principal and his bride!” “May the deenas protect you.”
He tethered his mount outside the Hall of Justice, then proceeded to the office of General Marcus, who headed the arm of the military that maintained order in the Capital. With him was General Ralf, one of the oldest and most trusted of the Principal’s aides.
Both men rose and held out their hands.
“Zach, welcome,” said Ralf. “It’s good of you to come on this of all days.”
“The work of the District must go on,” said Zach, “no matter what else is happening.”
“Well, yes, of course,” said Marcus. He was a short, round, clean-shaven man, with shiny, well-kempt hair, as meticulous in his dress and manner as Ralf was rough in his. He gestured Zach to a chair. “But drop your serious face for a minute. Your brother is to be a bridegroom at last. I never thought I would live to see it. And such a lovely young bride.”
“Yes,” Zach agreed. “She’s a . . . fine match for Will.” The story of Zach’s connection with Evvy had never been made known, not even among the Principal’s most trusted advisers, nor would it: only Zach, Evvy, and the Principal himself knew the truth.
“And he has changed, or so I understand,” Marcus went on. “That is, his dealings with women are apparently not what they were.”
Ralf cleared his throat and frowned. “Zach is a busy man,” he said. “Perhaps we should get to business.”
Marcus looked embarrassed, then spoke again. “Of course I don’t mean to criticize him,” he said. “I simply meant that I’m glad for him. He never wanted a woman permanent before.”
Zach sighed. “I’ll convey your good wishes to the Principal,” he said. “But there’s not much time, and I have some things to discuss with both of you.” As quickly as possible, he described the increased security measures that General Red had instituted at the House and the Principal’s plans for the deployment of troops throughout the Capital.
The session had lasted nearly an hour; once he had seen that Zach was not to be jollied into a festive mood, Marcus at once concentrated on business while Ralf methodically inspected the plan, asking questions whenever a point was unclear to him. Though Zach had been over the plans in detail with the Principal, he had found it hard to bring his own mind to the task, even as he heard himself repeating the instructions.
Now, approaching State House, Zach forced his misgivings to the back of his mind. He presented himself at the doorway, his heart beating as fiercely as if he were going into battle. A dour woman guard led him to a small parlor where he stood, awkwardly, feeling out of place. After a moment he went to the window and looked through the lace curtains at the crowd that was gathering outside the gates of the Principal’s House. At a sound he turned to see Evvy enter, radiant in her soft white gown. A crown of flowers secured a lace veil over her dark, glossy hair, and her plum-colored eyes were enormous.
He could not find his voice; suddenly he felt as awkward as if she were a stranger, rather than the girl he had traveled with for weeks, sharing food, companionship, and danger.
Evvy seemed not to notice his discomfort. She came toward him and took both his hands in hers. “Zach,” she said, smiling up at him.
Her smile was so open that he felt himself relaxing and, after a moment, could not help smiling back. “I’ve come to take you to your groom,” he said, his voice unexpectedly gruff.
“I am ready.”
“You are a lovely bride,” he said then. There was another moment of silence, and he started to turn, then remembered. “I have something for you.” He removed a small parcel from his pouch. “A wedding present.”
Evvy took the parcel and unwrapped it. Inside the wrapping was a necklace made of hundreds of intricately intertwined, luminous, colored fronds. “Oh, Zach,” she said. “It’s more beautiful even than the bracelet.”
“I used freshly gathered feathers,” he told her. He had made the necklace the night before, after the drunken revelry of the Principal’s bachelor party had ended. Unable to sleep, he had sat in his room remembering all that had happened in five years. His eyes had fallen on his feathered lyre, hanging on the wall, and he recalled Evvy’s pleasure when he had woven a bracelet for her out of one of the instrument’s broken strings, a tail feather from a large, flightless new-bird. He made the necklace the same way, twisting and braiding the fronds of several feathers until the many shiny colors blended in an almost fluid way.
She held the necklace in front of her a moment more, then handed it to him. “Please fasten it for me,” she said.
She turned her back to him, then lifted her hair and the veil. Zach carefully placed the necklace around her neck, then, his hand shaking, tied it just below her hairline.
She shook her head and patted her hair, then smiled again. “How does it look?”
“Beautiful,” he said truthfully. “Now it is time.” Formally he offered her his arm, and flanked by guards, they crossed to the Principal’s House.